


Walking in the cold

by Varretoto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anxiety, Im not descriptive about all of this, Mention of abuse, Mention of torture, Multi, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, also english not my first language, i guess, lance centric, so read at ur own discreton, u may wonder how, well im pretty sure i went the OOCness path
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-08-13 22:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20181559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varretoto/pseuds/Varretoto
Summary: He was given so much pain that he couldn't take anything else.He was told to endure it.He just wanted to get rid of it all.And he did.But.At the end, all he got left, was anger.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> im writing this in between the things i have to do, so, be ware this may be a little rushed and the worldbuilding not that good.  
Also, this is the second time I write in english so it surly is gonna suck (like in orthography and grammar).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't understand it at the beginning because he was so young, so naïve, so innocent. He didn't know he could do it, no one knew.

Leandro was four, just ten days after his and his sister's birthday.

Midnight, maybe a couple hours after it, only one of the twins was asleep in a mess of limbs. Both kids were used to share the bed, so a hand in the face or a foot in the stomach was never an obstacle to reach the world of dreams, but that night, Leandro couldn’t just fall to it.

He feigned sleep when his mama finished the bedtime story. When she left after kissing them in the forehead, Leandro opened his eyes, quite awake. At his side, Rachel was sound slept, one little hand grapping the sheet and the other Leandro’s shirt. From the window the moon was smiling and, with no clouds, the sky was full of stars.

Breathing in and breathing out, Leandro stayed awake listening to his mama moving in the kitchen and his papa moving in the bedroom. He heard them talking, just mumbles because the walls and the door were in the way, until they went to bed. The lights were put out and the night sky seemed to shine even more.

Silence.

And Leandro was still awake, only breathing with a pressure in his chest. It didn’t hurt but it was… it was… he didn’t know what it was. He tried to ignore it in behalf of finally getting to sleep, all in vain.

The hours kept passing.

Leandro had never been afraid of the night, pitch black darkness, yes. But he enjoyed the late walks with his papa or his older siblings, counting the shiny dots that twinkled up, up in the sky. He loved the late feasts his mama prepared and the family get to enjoy around a fire outside the house. He knew there were scary stories that happened, mostly, at night but even if his oldest sister tried to onvince him that there were ghosts in every corners of a room or inside a furniture, he knew they were never going to harm him, because he was safe with mama and papa, even his other siblings.

Leandro was not afraid to lay awake at high hours in the night. But the silence was weird, up until then, home meant noise, so it was in fact weird.

But he wasn’t scared, no... but didn’t like the silence either.

When it ended, he was relieved, afterwards, not so much.

First, he couldn’t make what it was but it sounded a lot like voices far, far away, but coming closer per second. Then, the sound of fire coming alive and footsteps rushing down the hall, reaching for the door, which, once open, let screaming fill the house. Leandro sat at the moment breathing harshly, Rachel only grumbled at the sudden movement but didn’t wake up, only rearranged herself on the other side leaving her brother free to move.

The pressure in his chest became heavier.

Leandro couldn’t make who was out there, it sounded a lot like his mama and his papa, but the other voices seemed foreign. And there was the screaming of pain, loud and clear. Too many feet were moving, there was a lot of moving outside his and Rachel’s room.

Leandro stood up, a little dizzy, and moved towards the door. It opened with a creak that with all the commotion was mute. Down the hall, shadows fell against the wall. Leandro walked slowly toward them. Once near, he could understand the voices apart from the screaming. His mama was near the table with her upper body tilted over it, barking orders to the people in the room. Someone Leandro didn’t know, was covering whatever was in the table. His oldest brother brought a bucket with water and a handful of towels, left them near his mama and took red stained towels from the floor. His papa came from the bathroom with the box his mama always used when some one of her children was harmed. Leandro’s other brother was crying in someone’s arms, maybe the man that sometimes helped his papa at work. There were other persons, following his mama words.

Leandro couldn’t understand what they were all doing or saying. All he could understand was the painful screaming.

The person covering his sight of the table finally moved.

Leandro filled his lungs in a quick gasp. Veronica, his oldest sister, was laying in the table, body squirming in pain and her arm extended towards mama bleeding out.

“We have to sew it now, you did good with stopping the bleeding, even if little, but she won’t make it till the medic is here” Mama was pale, even if she looked scared, her voice didn’t tremble “Amelia, sterilize the needle, now”

The woman took the equipment from papa’s hand and went quickly to the kitchen.

“Luis, I will need you to hold your sister down, we ran out of anesthetics”

The boy nodded and got closer to his sister, putting his hands over her. Veronica had stopped screaming but was crying, loudly, begging for mama to stop the pain. 

Leandro moved around the room, keeping himself out of the way of the other people. He went around to get near his sister. In the turmoil, no one noticed him, until he was near Veronica’s head.

“Leandro!” his mama shouted “What are you doing here?!” she asked him but was turning around, probably to find someone who could take him away since her hands were busy pressing an already dirty towel to Veronica’s arm.

Amelia brought the needle then.

“Take him away” said mama to the woman, but changed the order right away. “No, hold the towel, I need to prepare the string” and looked around. “Michael, take Leandro to his room, now”.

Leandro felt the hands of the man on his shoulders. When Michael found resistance, applied a little bit of force. Leandro followed him then, just a couple steps, because Veronica started screaming again.

Leandro looked back and saw his mama passing the needle through skin, saw Veronica’s face red, mouth quite open and eyes strongly closed and tears flowing.

She was in pain, so much pain. And Leandro couldn’t breathe, not at all, not even little huffs.

And it was scaring. And he hated it.

Leandro scratched the hand at one of his shoulders and when he felt himself free he lunged forward, just enough to reach his sister, in the head…

The moment Leandro’s little hands found her temple, he saw red. He felt hot, like when he touched the fire, he heard lighting, like when it reached a tree.

And he collapsed.

And veronica stopped screaming and fell into a quiet dream.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my mind, im too lazy to make this in one big shot.
> 
> EDIT (4/05/20): I changed the last line because it didn't seem to work for Lance's character (in this story)

It was easy for him to move through the foliage thanks to all the time he had lived in the forest.

Now that it was summer again, the freshness of trees and shrubs was a good protection against heat; which was why he returned after six months in the north and, although he finds new plants here and there, he still could recognize the path to his precious house.

There were still three days to go, to get to the far deeps of the forest I behalf of avoiding any poor souls that could get lost by walking away from the main roads or getting excited by an unbridled hunting.

Lance really enjoyed his loneliness.

He actually had no need to avoid the winter in the forest if only for the lack of food (either due to migration or hibernation of animals), therefore, moving north was attractive because the little change of the food and a little dose of people (that, even if he denied it, from time to time, he needed). So as autumn began, Lance was ready to start his journey northward until he reached the deserts; and as soon as spring began, he returned to his beloved forest, which, unfortunately was about to be tainted. 

All because the young man insisted on following Lance no matter all the impossible and dangerous paths he took. As the young man wasn’t used to making such long trips (as one night he told Lance out of nowhere) he had trouble keeping up, but that never stopped him. It didn't matter if Lance would go ahead of him for half a day, he never lost the trail and reached him sooner or later. 

Once time, Lance chose a path between the ravines near Balmera in order to lose him and he thought he had succeeded. The young man, not being familiar with the road, had stomped between two stones and slipped and got his leg trapped between them. He reached Lance a day later with a slight limp and two crooked stitches near his knee.

The young man had guts, Lance had to recognize it, but lately it was quickly turning in stupidity. 

The young man would repeat once and again that it was all because of a supposed debt of honor or something like that (Lance couldn't care less about it to pay attention).

Everything could have ended when one of the other men gave him new clothes and a haircut, for free, but no, the young man had to insist that a life was worth much more. Lance hadn’t even planned to play the hero that time, it was an accident. Good for them that everything went well, but either way, Lance thinks it’s dumb that the young man insists he has a debt to pay.

So, that was the reason why a stranger had been following him for the past two months and that was the reason why, despite his best efforts, a stranger would find out about his precious house. 

Lance stopped beside a small stream. He took a deep breath. 

Perhaps, if he killed him he could avoid all of that. But who was he kidding? If he did not do it halfway, where he could simply leave the body and not worry that it would be related to a traveler who passed by once a year, he would do less here, in his forest where he would have to make the effort to hide or get rid of the body... besides killing was a strong _no, no_ for Lance. The desire and need were not lacking, yes, but he always kept them under control. 

Perhaps, he could make a false trail to mislead the young man and drive him away. 

He turned in the direction of where his pursuer was coming and considered the option. He easily and quickly devised the new path, after all, he knew the forest. He had at least three routes. One of them, the easiest to work, could leave the young man lost in the thickest parts for a few months. 

Lance stared down to the wet dirt covered with some leafs. 

Would that be an assisted death? Or deliberate murder? 

Lance frowned. 

Or he could use the most harmless, the road that would take him eastward, in the direction of the roads that would eventually reach Altea. Then, he could get rid of the trail that leads back to his house. Yes, he would just had to outstrip the young man for at least half a day. 

"Isn't it too soon for another break?" the young man came out from a bush adjusting his backpack that surely a low branch he didn’t see pulled back. "It has been, what? Four hours since the last?" 

Lance didn't answer. After a few seconds of just looking at him, he shrugged and resumed walking. 

“Or are you thinking in another plan to lose me?” 

Lance didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. 

His mockery was understandable because of the past 27 attempts, the most he had managed to delay him was for a day... but in that forest was different. Lance had lived there already five summers, he knew it backwards and forwards. Every tree, every river, every ravine, every animal that could be found in one area or another and at what time. He knew that in the last hundred years he was the only person who dared to inhabit it and not only use it for pass-roads. He knew where the three paths that people created were and knew that the same people was careful to never lose them as if their lives depended on it (and perhaps, it did). 

During his trip, Lance only knew the roads, not the lands they cut, therefore he didn't have what he needed to mislead his pursuer successfully, but there, in his forest, it would be so easy. 

"You can try, if you want," the young man said a few steps behind Lance (because he had learned to keep his distance) “it has been quite boring since the last time you tried a week ago.” 

Lance gave him the reason with a nod. 

Only because he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, he decided he would wait until tomorrow’s night to put his plan into play. So, for the moment… Lance turned to his left. In that direction they would reach the five crooked trees, whose whitish trunks stood out among the others. He would be deviating for a few meters, but considered that it would be totally worth it. 

Twenty minutes later the young man was swearing out loud from the mud where he had fallen butt first while Lance moved even faster through the foliage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading


	3. Chapter 2

Oh, the pleasures of the own house… or at least for two days (that Lance spent washing cloths, cleaning and aerating the two rooms and taking inventory) because that’s what it took the young man to find it.

The morning of the third day, Lance got up from his nest of pillows fully rested, finally. After a light breakfast (a couple of eggs from a poor little bird that thought it was a good idea to leave them on top of the malformed closet), Lance opened the door with the intention of setting some traps because he was craving some meat, but the first thing he found outside the house was the young man bent by the torso, with his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath.

"I admit," he began between gasps "That. Was. Very clever."

Lance sighed.

"When did you realize?"

"At. Like five. Kilometers. From the forest" he straightened, even though he still had trouble breathing, that didn't stop him from glaring at Lance.

Lance started feeling cold. He felt it in his chest, pulsing in time with his heartbeat, he felt it spreading through his arms to reach his hands. He clenched his fists tightly, digging nails into skin. At least there wasn’t the ice yet.

This was his house far from the world that only knew how to give him one solely thing. His house that, because it was safe, nobody was supposed to break into it or even find it. And it was only his. His secret. No matter how many times he left it, he knew he could return to it and find nothing different. Because it was his. No matter how many times he left it, he could always...

"You are doing it again.”

Lance startled. The young man was in front of him and reaching for his left arm. Lance pushed him away. The young man took a few more steps back in addition to the ones he was urged to, raising his hands to indicate he was not threat. 

Lance couldn’t understand why after all the times Lance's fist ended on the other's face or stomach, he kept trying to "help" every time Lance got hurt. 

Yes, his hands were already bleeding, so what? It wasn't as if it hurt.

It never hurt.

Many times, Lance didn’t even realize if he had any wound unless he saw when it was done and even then, he didn’t worry to treat them because they eventually stop bleeding. Sometimes, even, Lance finds his attention catch on his skin breaking under the pressure of the knife his hands know all too well.

It never hurt.

So, what right does this young man had to worry about what would happen to his body? To him? If it was a concern what made him forget the precautions he had learned to approach Lance without thinking, the young man was way reckless than he thought. If it was in purpose, if he was conscious when he did it then the young man just stupid. 

Anyway, Lance didn't want it.

The cold pulsed again and Lance felt it in his lungs as he exhaled steam. Surely his skin was beginning to freeze if the young man's expression didn’t confirm it. 

Lance took a deep breath.

He had to leave if he wanted to have meat as soon as possible but leaving his house alone with the stranger just bothered him too much.

And if he didn't want to explode, he had to lose sight of the young man.

Lance stepped back toward the interior of the house but stopped and looked pass the young man where the precious meat could be running through the bushes.

"I won’t come in, I promise."

Lance looked at the young man who was retreating without turning his back, his hands still up. If he understood what his dilemma was, Lance was not going to thank him for it since it was the least he could do after invading his house.

"I'll stay by the rocks here on the way back, it seems like a good place to spend the night," he said as he pointed vaguely behind his shoulder (but Lance knew which he meant because, yes, in fact, they protected very well from the wind and surprises) "and I won’t bother you for the rest of the day, but tomorrow I’ll come back."

Lance twisted his mouth in a clear sign of annoyance.

"I will come as many times as I need, thought I’d been clear about it."

And finally he turned around and got out of Lance’s sight.

Lance was left with heaving steam, dried blood on his hands and the cold hugging his body.

He felt the need to hit something, maybe, even destroy something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warning, just to be safe: CLAUSTROPHOBIA
> 
> (if there's anything you may prefer tagged, tell me and I'll do it)
> 
> EDIT (idk when i did it): i changed the part where Lance is pondering if he should be grateful (and how to show it) towards Keith.

The young man kept his promise. For the next fifteen days he didn't even dare to knock on the door but always made it clear that he had arrived. Most of the days, Lance ignored him (and only heard him train, prepare his meals and talk alone– well, more like complain) and sometimes he would let him repeat what he had been saying for the almost last three months:

"I have a debt, let me pay the fucking debt and then I leave you the fuck alone."

To which Lance always replied with the same:

"I don't give a damn about your stupid debt."

To which the young man would make an unpleasant comment about Lance and Lance would then try to punch him. Only a few times has the hit landed where it was supposed to and most of the time the other avoids it.

The young man had learned when to back off (when Lance begins to exhale steam and his skin begins to freeze) because the first time he ignored the warnings, he ended up with a knife stuck in a thigh and a cut on his cheek that almost reached his nose (which left a decent scar). Except, obviously, for the times he has tried to be caring, but for the last fifteen days he had avoided his altruist attentions.

Lance knows he flares some warnings at first sight that had helped him avoid social interactions that were not indispensable. The most prominent, his expression which had gained him comments like “A criminal, for sure” in more than one occasion. On the roads, people tend to go around him or stop and wait for him to pass and go away. Also, his skin was pitch cold; those who had touched him, both intentionally or by accident, had backed away instantly and complained that his skin burned them.

There are also the braves or the idiots ones who took his attitude as a challenge or offense or a game, the ones who deliberately sought for a confrontation and therefore, found it. Lance would never have qualms about getting just a little bit of pay back from it, for what? He didn’t know but didn’t mind and it felt good. He only did mind when it got to the point where he had to avoid certain villages if he didn’t want to be arrested. That was why he tried to hold back, even if a little, because there weren’t so many villages far from Daibazaal on his route to the deserts and back. Lance would rather stay under the radar, so if he needed food and clothing, he would acquire them with the night's protection.

But, even so, with all the care he could have, Lance had won the young man's _favor_. 

Yes, the other man was safe and sound (well most of him, but apparently he was already lacking an arm), good for him (and his fiancé and the young man). Hurray!

Why the young man could not have settled for a "thank you" and continue with his life, there, near Balmera, as the other two did? Lance could not understand it so he hated it and didn’t like him.

So, the young man knew to never approach the house, but dared to accost Lance when he went out to check the traps, to collect or to hunt (if necessary) always keeping a ten steps distance, at least.

Lance didn’t try to get rid of him anymore in behalf of a better use of his time. The first time Lance had to hunt with the young man tailing him, he tried to get rid of him worried he would ruin it, but the young man surprised him. He could move in complete silence without any problems and Lance had the vague impression that was what he was really used to. So, he didn’t get any problems if the young man tagged along as long as he stayed quiet. And he did. But the moment Lance would finish, the young would start _chatting_. He didn’t talk much, the problem was that he somehow managed to take every unilateral conversation back to the “debt” topic (and that always ended badly). 

Lance’s little patience, eventually, started running out.

The sixteenth day, Lance didn't want to see the young man, not even in the slightly.

He woke up, too early for the sun to rise, with a scream stuck in his throat and tense muscles as if waiting for a punch.

Nightmares were far too common for him. The pitch darkness was far too common for him.

There was nothing to remember after he opened his eyes but faces he couldn’t tell, many, many faces. A few, the scary ones, would even linger on the corner of his eyes for the rest of the day.

Lance’s back itched, just a little. He could feel the phantom of a pain he didn’t know what caused it. Every time he tried to remember, to understand, the itching would get worse to the point he wanted to scratch open his back to get rid of the oldest scars.

Lance took a deep breath. He would always prefer the cold to that, he would take the creeping ice to the suffocating feeling of fear anytime.

He needed to get out, to do something that distracted him of the itching and the faces. 

Hunt.

That for sure would discharge the aggression burning in his blood. The only problem was the young man. 

The young man who pestered him. 

Lance pondered for a few seconds.

He could go looking for him and drop a blow and then another one, because one punch wasn’t enough to provoke the young man’s fighting instinct. Maybe, if Lance use his knife the other one would use his too. The young man wa skillful with it, Lance has seen it, but he has never used it against Lance, not once, not even to defend himself. So far, Lance could tell he wouldn’t stand a chance against the young man in a real fight (a life-to-death fight). 

Lance smirked.

It sounded promising but wrong in so many ways.

Lance shut his eyes. His nails clenched his thighs until drawing tiny drops of blood. He counted them, one, two, three, four and so, breathing with each number.

He didn’t like it, that need for hurting. He hated the satisfaction that came with every bloody mouth and broken nose his fist would leave. He was scared of the thirst for vengeance (in lack of a better word because he didn’t understand it yet). 

No. Any confrontation with the young man in that moment would only end in a bloodbath. Even if he annoyed Lance so much, he didn’t want his live in his hands… or the other way around.

_Hunt it is, then_

He looked out of the window, the sun hadn’t rise yet. Lance got out of bed and put on some comfy clothes. He didn’t bother with food, he just wanted to go. After checking if his bow was in good conditions, he left. 

The clearing had a way in and out from the back of the house. Lance avoided it because it was very inclined and full of stones a bit steep and slippery. That day, Lance didn’t mind it so much. 

On his way, he took more time than what he need to cover his trail just to be sure.

Lance enjoyed a morning free of the young man, he even took the measure to hunt in another area he had never been to with the young man before. 

He loved so much to use his bow. To feel the string tense between his fingers, to hear the arrow fly carrying a death sentence that always landed were it should, no need for second shots, for second tries. 

Lance loved to have that control, to have a life in his hands, a life that didn’t matter and no-one would miss. Killing but never hurting, Lance thought that was how it should be, never the other way around.

A few hours past noon, the young man found Lance skinning some rabbits by the river near the only waterfall in the forest.

Lance cursed under his breath and the cold began to pulse. Lance shook his hands trying to prevent the ice from forming, but it was useless, he felt it covering his shoulders, slowly.

“I’d have never thought you'd actually go down that side, those stones are a clear death wish.”

The young man sat down and Lance tried to ignore him and the ice.

Right there, was the worst place where Lance could explode, well, in either place of the forest would be bad, but here… the waterfall was quite close to the border of the forest and at the highest point of it. A big ass ice explosion could definitely call the attention of someone, and the only someone near (to the south) was Altea.

The other country Lance so dearly avoided.

_Calm down_

Breath in, breath out.

So far only two times had he exploded and Lance wasn’t a fan of the aftermaths. Both times had left him lethargic and a little blind, also keeping food down in his stomach was a challenge which during the first days ended with a lot of vomit. None of those ailments would be a nice partner in case he had to move away from the forest. So he had to calm down.

Breathe in and out and again.

Lance managed to stop the ice before his elbow. The coldness itched at his skin, like little needles going in without end. Lance’s frown deepened and he clenched his jaw. He kept working on the rabbits. At his side, the young man didn’t seem to pay him too much attention and occupied himself looking for rocks to throw into the river.

_I can do this_

Lance kept working on the rabbits. Thanks to whatever it was, he had calmed down in the past hours but the itching was still there (a little reminding of a life he didn’t know he had). He could ignore it, he totally could. Only one rabbit left and he could go back to his house.

“So.”

Lance startled. The young man had stopped throwing rocks into the river and even without looking at him, Lance knew he was staring. The knife stabbed the death rabbit a bit too hard.

“Have you ever wondered why you can control ice?” inquired the young man out of the blue.

The knife stopped midair. Without saying anything, Lance looked back at him. The young man must had seen something because his hands started to fidget under his gaze, suddenly nervous.

“Control?”

That had never felt like control. It was… painful? But it never hurt, so painful wasn’t the word. Scary? No. It was annoying, with all of its unnecessary aftermaths… but at the moment, the exact moment the ice was too much that it has to leave his body, it was exciting. Other than that, feeling it creeping all over his body was just annoying and it had never seemed he had a say in the matter.

So, what control?

“Look, I think I have given you enough time to prove if you know, or not, what the hell is going on with you.” his hands stopped moving “So far, is clear you know shit.”

Lance raised one eyebrow.

“I would rather have this talk, or not, if Allura was here, because she has all this technical words and I still don’t grasp the main idea or purpose of all this and she said that _this_ wasn’t necessary anymore, but hey, here you are.” The young man was rambling but Lance didn’t pay him so much attention after the name Allura was said.

He knew that name.

He didn’t like that name and didn’t know why.

His body started to tremble, his hands more than anything. Lance looked down at them, the young man didn’t notice his sudden plight and kept talking. Something was wrong with his hands. It took Lance a moment to realize that they were cold, that he could feel it.

That it hurt.

Lance knew her. He had seen her once some years ago.

The air got stuck in his throat.

And his hands were so cold.

He did something wrong… no, at that time he was hysterical, he just wanted to, to… to scape.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

It hurt so much. 

“Shut up!” Lance screamed at the same time he picked a rock and threw it at the young man.

Just by an inch it didn’t hit his face.

It was a warning.

The young man was surprised but not unnerved, he just modified his stand so he could be on guard for whatever came next. He got the warning and yet, wasn’t willing to step back. He opened his mouth to talk but Lance didn’t give him time to start and threw another rock. This time, he had to dodge. The next rock went for the young man’s leg. He jumped out of the way but as he was landing, another rock hit him in his knee, the sharp pain made him lose his balance for a bit and had to use one hand to stop himself from falling all the way. Lance didn’t take advantage of that and instead shoot to his shoulder. The young man grimaced as he was forced back leaving all his front vulnerable, he also wasn’t in any way of dodging.

_It would be easy, three if not one shots and…_

Lance stopped dead, hand ready with the next shot, breathing heavily.

His hands didn’t feel cold anymore.

In front of him, from the ground, the young man was just looking at him, nothing in his expression.

_Kill_

A shiver ran up Lance’s spine.

Kill, but not him. It wasn’t him whom Lance wanted.

Not him.

Lance didn’t throw the rock. He brought it close to his chest and cover it with both hands and squeezed, hard. It didn’t hurt, it should, but it didn’t. He knew when the skin cut but didn’t stop.

The young man raised and took a step forward.

“You are going to get hurt.”

And Lance was furious.

He just… and the young man insisted in _care_? 

_Why? _

Yes, the wounds would never heal... but at least none could get infected and eventually they all stopped bleeding. So it didn't matter.

The young man already knew that, he had asked as soon as he saw them for the first time a couple of months ago. Lance never gave an answer, not even to the other man who nursed him the two weeks he had been forced to stay in bed. The other man treated all the wounds the best he could, he sew all the cuts and smeared ointment over the scrapes and bruises. Just a little, he forced the skin to heal. Lance also didn’t explain why there wasn’t any infection that should have killed him or make him lose a limb, it wasn’t as if he understood it either.

Lance squeezed the rock tighter.

"You're going to hurt yourself," the young man's voice sounded tense and Lance didn’t like something about his tone.

The coldness started to burn.

Lance raised his hand with the stone and without looking away, applied even more force.

Blood dripped from between his fingers to the ground.

The young man's eyes narrowed and in a second, that Lance couldn't predict, he pounced with an outstretched hand in front. He reached for Lance's wrist, before he could react and avoid it. Lance pulled his arm to see if he could let go but failed. Lance felt the cold begin to press. He saw the young man stretch his other hand in his direction and Lance, without thinking, unsheathed his knife and pointed it towards the other's neck.

_Dammit_

Good thing the young man noticed the sharp object approaching and changed the direction of his arm to block it. In doing so, the young man took half a step back to be able to apply force on the arm that protected his neck. Lance took advantage of the change to pull his wrist but the other had not loosened his grip. He decided, then to push forward to tackle him down. He miscalculated. The young man was too close to the border. When Lance fall over him, his foot slipped out and brought both of them down the cliff.

The young man finally let Lance's wrist go, just before hitting the stone.

Lance closed his eyes.

His right side took the fall.

One, two seconds and it was a bit hard to make air reach his lungs. Before Lance could open his eyes he felt his body slip. He tried to hold on but the moss on the rocks prevented him. Soon the rock was over and he found himself falling again, until he struck again, this time he couldn’t even say what part of his body had received the impact.

Lance opened his eyes but something hurt so much he shut them again.

He didn’t know if he lost consciousness or not, but it took him a few seconds to locate himself, to understand what happened. He had fallen because he was fighting with the young man, he fell too. Was he there too? Close? The only thing he could hear was his own breath. He was breathing harshly and getting dizzy.

Breathe. Slowly, in, out, repeat.

Calm down.

First, he had to open his eyes to define his position well.

Black.

_No_

Pitch darkness.

_Please, no_

He tried to move his arms, legs, torso, whatever. Only his left arm found no resistance. He put his hand to his face and felt gently. His forehead was wet, definitely blood, his cheekbone was a little swollen and nothing more. He tried to feel the rest of his body but only reached part of his chest were his heart was beating with frenzy. As far as he could discern, there was no harm beyond small wounds. He tried to move his legs again, this time, he could tell that one foot didn’t even budget, he didn't even feel it.

_Possibly broken_

Breathe.

Slowly, in, out, repeat.

He had definitely fallen into a hole. He couldn’t remember any near the waterfall, maybe it was separated from the water (the noise of water falling felt far, far away) and camouflaged itself with the protrusions of so much piled stones. He couldn't turn his head up, he didn't know if some light was visible above, so he couldn't figure out how deep in he was. His eyes moved around, frantic, trying to get use to the darkness but all he got was the impression everything going even more black and tight. He was having trouble breathing, as if his lungs didn’t understand or forgot the notion of inhale and then exhale. His mouth gasped desperate to get any air, but any went down. His chest started to burn and Lance shut his eyes, tears streaming down his face. 

_Shh, it happens_

Lance whined, he knew that voice… he missed that voice.

_There is nothing wrong with that_

She sounded so calm, so lovely.

_It’s OK_

Lance took a big breath. He felt his lungs fill. He left the air go.

_Don’t be afraid_

And repeated.

_Don’t hate it_

He still felt dizzy but at least he could breathe normally.

_It’s OK_

Lance opened his eyes and saw darkness.

_It’s OK_

Lance tried.

_It’s OK_

But darkness was were nightmares lived.

_Oh, but you are not a child_

Darkness was were the nightmares ran free.

_You are a tool_

Were they could chase and hurt.

_You are not human_

Until it bleed.

_My little blessing, mine_

And bleed, and bleed.

_You are useful, aren't you happy? _

Until death sounded a lot like mercy.

_Mine_

A hand closed around his upper arm.

Lance screamed and tried to pull away even though he knew he couldn’t, _shouldn’t_ do that.

The hand pulled hard.

Lance could feel the ice covering his whole body but that wasn’t what prevented him of fighting against the grip.

His body slowly gave way to the force and soon his torso was freed from the narrow space. He could move his head, then and look up, where a shadow covered the faint light coming from above. Someone was talking, possibly the shadow, but Lance couldn't understand what were the words. Everything looked blurry and his lungs burned from the cold.

"Let go" said Lance in a whisper to whoever was up there.

Another hand took him under his armpit and pulled hard at the same time the other did.

Soon, Lance felt his legs break free.

"Let go," he repeated, weak, only a whisper “please.”

Then, he finally passed out.

When Lance woke up, the first thing he noticed were the three sheets on top of him (which would always fail to change his body temperature). Second, all his wounds were treated. Third, that his foot was not broken but very swollen. Fourth, there was a broth that smelled very good next to his pillow nest.

His mind was foggy. He remembered the fight, the fall and the hole. It wasn’t a dream, the voices were real. They weren’t him. They were from his memories, his forgotten memories. Those were voices he once heard too many times, two voices that were so different but sometimes sounded the same. They shouldn’t. Lance knew that was a lie, it must be. He didn’t know why but he believed it. 

And then he remembered the shadow. The one that apparently took him out of the hole. 

Lance studied his arm. Didn’t know what he was looking for but was satisfied when he didn’t find it. 

He didn’t have to wonder who it must have been. The only other person in the forest was the young man, as far as he knew. 

Lance shook his head. Either way he wanted to see it, it was the young man who had helped him. No-one else had a _debt _to pay, an interest to save a stranger who would stab them if they didn’t watch out. Lance sighed.

After verifying that, in fact, the broth also tasted good, Lance stood up. His head felt a little bit light but at least he wasn’t dizzy so he could walk without problem. Lance took a few steps to confirm that his foot didn’t hurt. He moved towards his room’s door, stopping before going out and looked at his improvised bureau. There was one of his shirts folded neatly over it. Considering that just a pair of pants was enough, he ignored it and went out in search of his savior.

When he opened the door of his house he was met with the young man near the end of the clearing but in sight, mercilessly slicing a tree with his knife that Lance didn’t remember was so long. The sound of the door caught the young man’s attention and with the sword-knife raised over his shoulder he turned in Lance's direction. Before he could react, the young man approached, with the sword-knife firmly held in his hand, at quick great strides. When he was less than three meters away, Lance saw that his face was paler than usual and that he had a furious grimace.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

The force of the scream was such that Lance stepped back without thinking. The young man stopped almost in his face not caring about Lance’s space.

“What?”

“You twisted your foot, it seems that you have a damn apple by ankle and s you think it's a good idea to walk without even, I don't know, a cane or a stick!” the young man took a couple of steps back, never breaking eye contact with Lance.

Lance blinked once, twice.

“I’m fine–”

“Didn’t you heard about the apple by ankle!” shouted the young man and maneuvered his knife-sword at his side in a stroke that cut the dirt. Lance glanced at it.

“It doesn’t hurt.” answered Lance in a low voice.

“So it seems,” the young man passed his hand over his face “doesn’t make it alright, tough.”

Lance stared at him.

The young man glared at the floor for a moment and turned around. Lance thought he was going to go and raised his arm to stop him but the young man heaved a deep breath and turned around again.

“I thought you were death.”

Lance was taken aback.

“Didn’t know where you fell, if you were stuck or just got up and left– and just go away. I looked around for hours, even came here, but you– you weren’t here. It took me hours to find you.” the anger finally left his body and his shoulders slumped down “I really thought you were death, so still down there, I get it, it was narrow but you didn’t respond when I called you, not even a sound.”

Lance remembered the darkness and a shiver ran down his spine.

“And then, you dare tell me to release you! I would never have taken you for the suicide type but–”

Lance remembered then and moved fast to pull the hands of the young man towards him to inspect them. The young man shut up and stared at Lance surprised. Lance watched carefully both sides of them. They were fine, just a little cold but there was no trace of ice. He released one of his hands to be able to check the other with more attention, ran the tips of his fingers all over the palm skin. It was OK.

Lance raised his head to look surprised at the young man who was looking at him confused (and a little red in the face).

"Your hands.”

“What about them?” The young man was standing very still, almost as if he was holding his breath. 

Lance traced again the hand he was holding applying a little bit of force this time. No pain, no cracks, no damage… By the young man's barely distinguishable gesture of pain, Lance remembered that his skin burned. He let go of the hand, rather threw it away.

“That’s it, isn't it?

The young man frowned.

“What?”

“Your ‘debt’.” Lance looked sideways through the trees at the end of the clearing “A life for a life.”

For a moment there was only silence between them.

“It doesn't work that way.”

Lance looked back at the young man. He suddenly looked so tired, more than a few bruises and a sore body could make. It seemed the type of tiredness that came with sadness. The young man shook his head, looked at his hand holding the knife-sword, looked at the sky and heaved a deep breath.

“Well, that's ridiculous.” Lance suddenly blurted out a little high pitched.

The young man turned at Lance with his eyes wide open. Lance couldn’t make what his expression meant but at least he didn’t look sad anymore.

“You really shouldn't stand, much less walk” said the young man after a moment.

"It doesn't hurt." Lance shrugged.

And the sadness was back.

“Even so.”

Lance got lost in his eyes that just then noticed were of a pretty color he didn't know the name and didn't like to see that sad gleam in them.

Lance nodded unconsciously. He turned to enter the house but before doing so he turned back to the young man and fidget a little, opened and closed his mouth a few times. The other raised a brow but said anything.

“The food was good.”

The young man's expression changed slightly and a small, but very small, smile appeared on the tips of his lips.

“I can do more, if you want.”

Lance nodded again. He entered the house and closed the door behind him.

Lance didn't sleep that night.

He was sitting between the pillows, leaning against the wall, and his hands playing absentmindedly with the empty bowl in his thighs. His eyes were lost out the window, looking at the starry sky. He vaguely remembered the names of some stars and constellations they formed, but there were so many that he didn't know if they were the ones he knew, so he mostly changed their names every night. He vaguely remembered that someone or many someones, long ago, taught him all that and much more about so many more things.

There were so many faces but he couldn’t recognize any. There were some that made him feel good, safe, but others that stirred him and made the ice spread rapidly. Lance hated those faces. Those faces make his back itch, especially the long, thin and old scars that covered most of it. 

He raised his arm to the height of his eyes so that the low light that came through the window let him see the few scars he had. There was one that started in the elbow and almost reached his wrist, it was not so long ago but Lance remembered that it was deep because it reached the bone. The man who cured him told him that if it were not for his curious condition of avoiding infections, he would have lost his forearm.

Lance closed his eyes.

That man had been very kind. All his treatments were careful and he always apologize for the nonexistent pain. He never raised his voice, even when he scolded the young man or his fiancé for whatever stupid thing they did. And he would always bring the food to bed and accompanied Lance with stories the time it took him to eat (he still doesn’t know why he began to take longer and longer so he could keep listening to the stories). Nor did he asked about any of the older scars, he attended the wounds that looked fresh in silence and make sure Lance could never see his expression while he was doing so.

The day the man told him he was ready to leave, he did it with a sad look. For some reason, that had bothered Lance so he ran away the next night. A couple days later the young man found him and started following him.

Now, Lance could think “well, ain’t that shit luck” because otherwise he would have died in that hole or not really, because if the young man hadn’t come, he wouldn’t have fell in the first place. The best he could see of all what happened was that at, the end, he got the best outcome from it.

He was alive.

Didn’t have the best opinion about it but at least felt satisfied with the current opportunity to understand why he believed he should keep his heart beating and feel…

Have he ever felt grateful?

Something in his mind tried to surface. Something that wanted to leave the deepest of his memories and was starting to scream in red. He didn’t let it. He closed his eyes to push it back, to force himself to keep forgetting it because he didn’t need it in that moment (he would rather never have it). With a little trouble, he managed to return his thoughts to the young man.

“Gratefulness” seemed like a big word but the correct one, after all the young man had made him a lot of favors apart from taking him out of the dam hole. 

Lance grumbled as he shook his hair with his hands. 

Why was it so hard?

He felt compelled to… not pay for it, because debts were stupid, but to make it clear he was... thankful? It felt weird to even thinking it. Have he ever felt it? He guessed “yes” otherwise couldn’t be able to recognize it, but even then, what was he supposed to do with it.

“Just go and say ‘thank you so much for saving my life’? That must do it, right?”

Maybe it was that it wouldn’t be enough.

He knew everything he had done to the young man so far, none of which could plead for his help (ignoring the _debt_). Lance sighed, long enough to make it into a groan. He could do, oh, so much better.

So, with a resolution he didn’t know, he went looking for the young man for second time. This time taking the long stick the other left when he brought Lance the second bowl of broth, but didn’t bother to put on a shirt, again.

Near the clearing, were some big rocks that the young man had arranged to be his hideout.

When Lance got near there, he found the young man cleaning his knife (as usual of every night) by a fire that burned more to dry clothes than to keep the cold of the night at bay.

Lance considered for a few seconds whether to approach or not because the rattling of the fire made him nervous and make the tips of his fingers tickle. But he had come for a reason and he shouldn’t be a coward. He took a deep breath and advanced.

Just a few steps and the young man noticed him. He started to turn in Lance’s direction but mid movement, deliberately looked away towards a tree. Other than that, he didn’t give Lance any other indication of not wanting him there, so Lance finished approaching to sit next to the young man (who was still glaring the other way).

None of them spoke, not a greeting nor a comment of the clear night or whatever other awkward line. Among them, the fire was rattling.

The young man suddenly bent down to pick up a folded blanket and offered it to Lance (still glaring the other way). Lance accepted it but made no move to cover himself with it.

He was not cold, he was never cold or at least that had always been the deal.

The young man went back to his knife which was short again.

Lance followed the movement of his hands with his eyes. The hands that were short in the fingers but huge in the palms, the hands with skin full of little white scars, the hands that moved so easy around the weapon that it was clear they knew what they were doing, the hands that were strong and warm.

They still looked fine. 

_Good_

Maybe hours passed or just minutes, but it surely felt like an eternity.

After a while, Lance realized that the young man had already finished but was still moving the knife around as if he didn't know how to excuse himself, start a conversation or ask Lance to leave. He didn't see any of the confidence the young man used to show whenever he approached him, maybe it was because for the first time, Lance was the one who looked out for the other. 

Lance couldn't understand the difference but, for sure, didn't want to make him uncomfortable. 

_Huh, I’m having surprise after surprise_

Lance opened his mouth. It took him a couple of seconds to gather the courage.

“What did you say your name was?” he finally blurted out.

The young man stilled, obviously not expecting the question or any word at all. Slowly, as if he didn't believe it yet, he turned and looked at Lance with eyes wide open (Lance was glad to see the color again which seemed to shine, because of the fire or the night, he didn0t know). For a moment, Lance thought he wasn't going to get an answer, no that he deserved it after all he did, he totally understood it. 

Slowly, the young man put his knife in his lap and reached for the blanket in Lance's hand, he only took it when Lance make it clear it was OK, and raised a bit off his seat so he could put it around Lance’s shoulders. Back on his seat, with a little smile and looking at the fire, the young man said:

“Keith, my name is Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (idk when i didt it): I got rid of the times Lance addressed Keith by his name out loud, the one i left doesn't count (for me) because he didn't actually managed to pronounce it.

“And… what’s your name?”

Lance didn’t give him an answer right away but only because he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He could always say “I’m Lance” but that was a lie… or maybe not? Four years, right? He even knew that, before, he was already referred as “Lance”, he could remember one of the faces telling him to hold onto that word as if it was his own life. So, he was Lance now, right? Still, he didn’t want to give an answer. There was something else stopping him from telling the other. Maybe it was fear, he was hiding after all. Neither did Keith or the other two men gave Lance any reason to distrust them; if they had had any connection to the Galra or Altea they would have handed him over when he was sick and weak. But, on the other side, it was obvious Keith was in some way an acquaintance of _that person_, but Lance still didn’t know if that was actually as bad as he felt it or not, at least, she didn’t revolve his stomach as much like the Galra did… but made him uncomfortable anyway.

His skin started to itch.

“That’s Ok.” Keith quickly assured him as he looked down, maybe worried he had over stepped again. The awkward silence was back and Lance tried to think in anything that could get rid of as he looked around for ideas. His eyes found Keith’s hand holding his knife.

“How come you are so good with that… knife?”

Keith’s eyes went back to stare directly at Lance.

“I learned.”

And Keith did something, he chuckled covering his mouth with a quick hand and Lance was about to ask what was so funny when he continued as if nothing.

“I needed something to entertain me when I was a kid– More like to blow some steam… and I wanted to learn how to use it because this was important to me” he pointed at the knife with a motion of his head “I found it interesting, never stopped.”

Lance didn’t know how to continue from there and better started to look for another thing to say.

“I have a question too, regarding your bow, if you’d allow me.” He looked for his approval and continued when Lance nodded. “How did you learned to use your bow.”

Lance huffed.

“I don’t know”

“What you–”

“How come you always make questions I don’t know the answer?”

Keith blinked at him.

“When I first arrived to the forest I knew how to put traps, knew what to eat and what not, when I found a bow I just happened to know how to use it and was surprised I had such good aim and when that bow broke I magically knew how to make a new one… I just knew but not why.”

Lance was sure that was the largest amount of words he had ever told anyone in four years.

His chest started to pulse.

“What about before you arrived here?”

And the ice started.

Lance stood up dropping the sheet off his shoulders.

“I don’t like your questions!”

Keith was on his feet in an instant, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry” he said loud and firm. 

And Lance listened with his hands closed hard and his body trembling.

“I’m sorry, it isn’t my goal to upset you, that doesn’t change the fact that I did… but I don’t know how to avoid it because you– You don’t know or at least don’t want to talk about it.” He grimaced at his own words.

“I don’t want you here.” He spit with all the venom he could muster.

“And you have been quite clear about it but as I already told you I can’t go until I pay my debt.”

“Then, explain it! How the heck do you think on doing it?! Why isn’t it so simple?!”

“Because I have to repay you with something that will make you happy!”

“And what–”

“And I don’t want to think in the fact that being alive isn’t just enough for you!”

Lance stared at him dead in the eye. 

Both of them were heaving and the fire kept rattling.

“What would you know?” He spoke in almost a whisper sounding too bitter.

“Enough.” Was the instant answer.

The ice reached the fingertips of his hands and the rest of his body next in fast progression. The coldness accumulated in his chest more and more and more and it was getting hard to breath.

Lance turned around and fled.

Keith shouted for him but didn’t try to follow.

He ran.

Fast.

With his heart beating and his chest freezing.

He managed to get to the house, to his bedroom before collapsing. The sheets and pillows in the floor softened his fall.

His head was spinning and his chest hurting.

Lance opened his eyes, he didn’t even realized he had closed them in response to the pain. 

_Not again_

He took a big breath.

_I don’t want it_

It was really hard to breath.

_Don’t explode_

Was the last thing he thought before his eyes went backwards and lose consciousness.

Lance woke up with a yelp.

Someone was knocking at the door.

Outside the window seemed to be early in the morning.

His head was heavy and his chest throbbed.

He wanted to keep sleeping, so he did.

There was the knocking again.

Looking through the window, he estimated it to be almost evening, maybe a one hour before night. He stretched making all the bones in his back crack. His stomach growled asking for food, it had been almost two days without eating after all.

_Food, I need food_

Without realizing what he was doing he was at the door, opening it to his supposed unwanted guest.

Keith was standing on the other side with a straight face.

_Food, give me food_

But he didn’t get to ask since his guest beat him to talk.

“I can’t just ignore the debt.”

Lance suddenly remembered why he had been feeling awful and frowned ready to ask him to shut up but Keith continued.

“This is why.” As he proceed to roll up his left sleeve revealing an intricate drawing in heavy ink covering most of his arm. It started in his wrist with the point of an arrow over his pulse and it went up past his elbow. “My debts aren’t in consideration of an honest heart, they are a fucking curse.” He pointed at the top end were the ink looked incomplete as if it had also covered the rest of the arm before. “And if I don’t pay back, it’s gonna kill me.” Keith looked sideways for a moment before sighing. “Some-one thought it would be fun, hey, let’s fuck this child with responsibilities.”

Lance brought a hand to his mouth without thinking.

“The first person was easy, the second not so much and the third just got more difficult. I had to learn to avoid it the best I could, didn’t like my live depending on the opinion of others, and I managed… But, you had to come and save my brother’s fucking live. I’m not complaining, I’m fucking grateful, you are the second person I’m not mad at for owning them something…” he sighed again. “Since back then in Balmera, I knew it was gonna be difficult with you, didn’t imagined at what magnitude, but… Even though I’m starting to freak out, I want– I’m willing to help you...” 

Lance gasped when Keith suddenly knelt down, his arms shut out trying to stop him but didn’t dare to touch him at the last second.

“Because you saved my brother and no live or a thousand ones would never be enough to express my gratitude, I know you hate me, but please, please…” 

_I don’t want to die, not like this_

Keith bowed his head until touching the ground with his forehead while Lance just stared down at him, mouth agape in lost for words.

He finally knelt down too. One, two, three seconds before he dared to put his hand on top of Keith ones, asking for his attention. When the other raised his face, Lance spoke.

“Maybe if you go, I will be happy.”

To his surprise, Keith actually laughed, dry, then hiccupped and kept laughing. Lance ignored the lone tear that fell down his cheek. He keep laughing for a while and Lance waited for him to calm down.

“I… honestly don’t know, I don’t have memories from before the last four years. I don’t know who I am, what I want, if there’s something that would make me happy.” It was Lance time to sigh. “So far, the only familiar thing to me is the ice and this… anger.” 

_Wait_

Lance got an idea. 

“What?”

“You know, the nightmares, there are always this faces, scary faces that gave me this urges to– I don’t know, kill something? Or to die, sometimes. Anyway, they unnerve me.”

“… You want to find out who they belong to?”

“I was thinking more in the line of vengeance”

Keith had the decency of looking scandalized.

“Ain’t killing no-one.”

“Lame.”

They stared at each other, Keith surprised and Lance serious.

“Would that actually make you happy?” now he looked horrified.

Lance thought for a moment with a finger on his chin.

“Doubt it.” Was the final verdict.

“Then why the fuck bringing it up?”

“Needed to say it aloud, I guess, needed to feel it… it would be satisfactory, I’m not going to lie.”

Keith sighed.

“Sorry, I know what it happiness means but the feeling is just… foreign. I don’t think I would be of too much help with this” he pointed at the drawing in the other’s arm. 

“Maybe you just forgot it with everything else.”

“Maybe.”

Lance wished for him to be right.

_I don’t want your blood in my hands, that has always been true_

Lance looked up to the sky. The first stars were out but it wasn’t dark yet. 

“Hey, have you eaten already?” Keith asked as he got into his feet. 

“No.”

“Want some broth?”

Lance stood up too.

“Is that the only thing you know how to cook?”

“No…”

Lance stared at him.

“I can roast meat too.”

Lance barked a laugh and Keith smiled.

That night they talked for a few hours after dinner, trying to fall into a conversation easy for Lance. There was some reluctance to continue with the "talk" they had at the waterfall and after a half assed explanation about why, Keith agreed to leave it for another day (he now had time to think well how to explain it since Lance was willing, if just a bit against it, to hear him). Keith, still curious about his peculiar condition, tried the same questions he had already asked before: why don't you heal?, why any of your wounds ever get infected?, all of which Lance replied with the same:

"I don't know, since I can remember that is how it has been, but at least I don't feel the pain, that's real, I've never lied about it."

Keith frowned, opened his mouth but didn’t comment. They were silent for a while until he thought of another question. He asked about the forest, told Lance what he knew about it (mainly bad stories and beliefs) and Lance provided small comments about whether they were true or not (surprising Keith with the knowledge he had acquired in four summers, which apparently was by far, more than his sources).

"Nothing bad has ever happened to me, but I've seen what can happen."

"I guess I've been lucky too, then."

Lance considered his comment for a moment.

"Maybe you can teach me a little so I don't depend so much on it."

And just because the even thought of telling him no make him feel bad, Lance said yes.

They also talked about his trips to the north and back, how he had devised the routes to avoid the same way back and forth.

"I am surprised at the ease with which you follow them, you never had a problem from where we came from"

“You stop worrying when you aren’t afraid to hurt yourself”

“Doesn’t mean you are not able to die… does it?

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried to.”

Keith must have noticed the ice on Lance's skin because he forced the conversation back to the forest but Lance interrupted him.

"Then, the man without an arm is your brother?"

Keith had so much to tell about Takashi Shirogane, the main thing being how complicated it was to keep him safe due to his hero complex (but the way he said it make it look as if he really didn’t mind it that much).

“He was the first person I was indebted to, quite easy to please but it was so worth it…”

Lance didn’t ask for the other man and Keith said nothing about him.

At one point there was nothing more to talk and they just sat there, facing each other, with the sheet around Lance's shoulders because he was still refusing to wear a t-shirt and Keith still insisted on him using it even though he didn’t need it.

Keith ended up sending Lance away with the pretext that due to the emotions of the last few days, they both needed to sleep. Lance gave him the reason, got up, returned the sheet and told him by way of farewell that he shouldn’t expect the same cooperation starting the next day, but that he was going to try.

"I already imagined much… but, thanks for the warning” he replied with another small smile and Lance left feeling a little satisfied.

Back at the house, he had no problem falling asleep.

It was as Lance said so and the following weeks passed with sporadic and uncomfortable talks, since they only happened when he was in the mood and had the patience to listen to Keith (with the only exception being the days when he had nightmares which, to his displeasure, began to occur more often). More than anything, they simply spent time in each other's company, in silence.

Keith was still not allowed to enter the house but it was quite obvious that he was more comfortable now that he knew that his presence wasn’t so unwanted. When he could, he asked Lance questions about how he felt and what he thought of certain things, always avoiding those that concerned his identity and his past.

"Are you looking for something to help you?"

"How else am I gonna achieve something?"

When they didn't try to talk, they did simple mundane tasks like washing, hunting, gathering fruits and plants, cooking or just walking around.

Keith had told him that since he had arrived, he only knew a tight area around the clearing where the house was and although he could recognize the way outside the forest, he dared not to venture; so Lance took him through the forest. He showed him the smallest stream with the sweetest sound, the big old tree where a group of small round birds nested (and at what time of day they could hear their song), where the strangest and most magical animals resided (Keith was excited to see they really existed and were not just questionable drawings in a book). Only once did he take Keith to where the treetops were so dense that it almost seemed like an eternal night and where animals and plants only existed to kill. Most of the time, they didn’t go far away from the clearing and the waterfall.

Lance gave Keith an introduction to the plants, fruits and animals that were safe to eat (all, not only the ones he had already seen Lance eat until then, to which he had stuck in behalf to avoid any risks), as well as those he shouldn't even touch.

"Wait, if you don't remember anything before coming to the forest, how did you manage to survive? This place is way too hostile."

"Another mystery." He had replied with a shrug.

He really didn't know how to explain it. Sometimes it had been by trial and error (and, by a miracle, only with the less dangerous specimens), but for everything else it was like having something or someone giving him instructions or advising him ... or simply, somehow, he already knew. It was even the same with the house, when he had gotten there he just walked inside, into the depths of the forest with the feeling that he was going to find something and he did, the house was there and nobody came to claim it later. It was as if the forest itself had let him live there. One more thing that Lance couldn't understand, but that, since it didn't give him any problems, was Ok to just let it be.

Although they were on good terms, it didn’t mean that Lance had ceased to be a threat to Keith's safety. At least, Keith no longer deliberately or by accident provoked him, but it happened anyway that Lance couldn’t calm down and the most innocent question or just seeing Keith made his body freeze. Since the day they clarified the matter of the bet, they only had a confrontation twice (the first didn’t get so bad but in the second, Lance was about to pierce Keith’s chest with an arrow if it weren’t for an animal that made him miss). After the second time, Keith tried to explain again what he thought about the ice, carefully avoiding _the name_.

“There are five deities that represent the elements and… I think you were chosen by one of them, the Blue Lion is my guess– it’s the only one missing, after all.” 

Lance had never heard anything about it, about five gigantic, astronomic or whatever lions. He didn’t ask about the other four or what the heck it meant to be chosen.

“Deities?”

“Well, more like guardians but in Altea they are considered deities and in Daibazaal, at least, people recognize their power and presence in history.”

“And they are ‘real’ because… what?”

“The balance of the world.”

“More like for a children story.”

“For some people, yes, not gonna lie.”

But Lance decide to forget it when Kith said that the purpose of the people chosen by the lions was to help and protect the world and its inhabitants.

“Not exactly the best option, am I?”

Keith tried to argue but whatever lies he was about to spout, Lance asked him, not too nice, to shut it. They didn’t see each other for a few days after that, Lance avoiding Keith and Keith giving Lance some space.

Lance felt… bad because it didn’t make sense, the only thing Keith had to make conclusions was the stupid ice since it sounded promising: they had been missing a paladin for the last seven years, the one representing water (not that they were in an urgency to find them because some two countries were under an alliance, so things were supposed to be alright but Keith didn’t sound so sure about it). The problem was that, considering the way Keith described how the paladins were supposed to be, Lance couldn’t find in it anything he was (didn’t know if he was disappointed or not).

Lance finally went looking for Keith only because he had a dream for the first time, one where he was walking aimless over a huge, almost infinite body of water. When he looked down, towards the deeps, he found two big yellow eyes. Right away after waking up, with his heart beating in his ears, he went to Keith but rather than ask “what the heck?” he asked the other for a fight.

“What? Are you having one of your episodes? Because if you are, it ain’t gonna be safe for neither of us”

“No,” he had lied, his skin wasn’t freeze yet but it was up close “I’m just curious.”

“About what?”

“I have never seen you use the knife… in a fight.”

Keith said no.

“If you want, we can call it training or something.”

“Ok, but without the knife or any kind of weapons.”

“Well, that won’t be fun.”

Lance tried for a few hours to no avail since Keith refused to change his mind.

“Are you Ok? You seem a little frantic… Did you had a bad dream?”

“Yes, no… I don’t know.”

“But it was something that upset you.”

“… Yeah”

“Want to be alone?”

Lance told him no. Keith offered then to go fishing and so they spent the rest of the day doing that.

Since then, Lance had the dream with the water at the same rate than the nightmares, soon it was nothing more than those two options. Lance opted to avoid sleeping, but rather than feeling “murderous” because of all of it, he found out that Keith’s silent company helped, not to calm him or make him feel better… it seemed to just ground him, as if he could just turn off his mind and forget about the scary faces or the deep, dark water.

Keith noticed it and tried to get Lance to talk about it but he refused to. Keith tried a few times before giving up when they almost got into a third physical fight over it.

So they still were able to hang out but they stopped talking, losing all the ground they managed to cover and Lance noticed that the ink in Keith’s arm kept wearing off, even if little, almost unnoticeable, with each passing day.

And it made him feel guilty.

One morning, Lance didn’t find Keith where he was supposed to be, beside the big rocks.

All his stuff were there, well, only his knife-sword was missing. Everything was tidy, there weren’t any signs of struggle or a rushed leaving.

Nothing.

Lance didn’t dare think the worse, whatever it could be… but Keith did say he knew one way out of the forest, so there was no reason to believe he could have got lost.

He was just gone without a word, not even a goodbye.

Lance sat down were they would once had little talks while Keith cooked some broth and waited, getting colder with each passing hour.

For the first time he hadn’t exploded per se.

His body had frozen and as always, Lance did his best to calm it down, but the coldness increased. He could feel the pain again. Then, his skin began to break leaving deep cracks everywhere, first in his hands, then his arms and when they reached his chest was when he lost it. He screamed as he scratched himself trying to close the cracks in his skin in vain.

He got up with trouble and went looking for something to cover himself with, to warm himself up, among the things Keith had left.

Wherever he stepped on, his foot left ice; wherever he touched, his hand left ice.

He managed to find the sheet that Keith had lent him many times, but when his hands touch it the cloth freeze in a second. He still tried to put it on, but he couldn’t even feel it in his hands. His fingers squeezed it, trying to bring it back to his normal form but it eventually broke and the pieces fell to the ground and he with them.

Lance didn't know what happened next. Only that he was kneeling on the earth, only that it was no longer earth that his hands felt. Under his legs, his hands, there was ice, ice that covered all the things of Keith and part of the rocks and almost reached the trees behind him.

But his skin wasn’t frozen anymore, he still had the cracks but at least they weren’t bleeding or hurting.

But his body was still cold.

In a frenzy, he had managed to reach his room, taken all the sheets he had and tangled them all over his body, trying to appease the shivering, all in vain.

He wasn’t able to sleep that night.

Lance was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall next to the door of the house and he was trying really hard not to falling asleep.

Since he had been awake last night, and the one prior that, he had finally collapsed mid-morning and "slept" a few hours, luckily with no dreams. He did nothing for the rest of the day, well, more like he was unable to. His body was so tired that he even gave up on food because every time he tried moving his head felt like spinning and had almost made him vomit on more than one occasion. At the end, he chose to sit outside the house and wait for the day to end.

His eyelids weighed too much, so much that he nodded from time to time but never let the sleepiness beat him. Maybe if he could entertain himself with something it would be easier, but again, moving was out of the question.

It was the end of the third day after Keith had left.

At least now Lance was calmer about the matter (didn’t feel comfortable admitting that was what triggered the ice at all, but it was what it was) and was able to analyze the predicament better. If Keith had realized that they were never going to figure out a solution for the debt and decided to live the time he had left with his brother, he had every right to do it, since Lance hadn’t been one of the best companies in recent days... and deliberately wasn’t helping with the debt in any way.

But understanding it didn't mean it didn't make him feel bad… for two reasons: the first one, it was going to be his fault that Keith died; and the second, he didn’t say goodbye (as childish as it sounded because he surly didn’t deserve any of it).

Lance had caught himself feeling sad about it and reprimand himself for it. Wasn’t this what he had wanted all along since the beginning more than three months ago? To be left alone? He said that was going to make him happy, didn’t he? How many times had he tried to kill him? How many times he said it didn’t matter what happened to him? All he got was what he bargained for every time he didn’t listen, every time he didn’t back off… he deserved every slice and every hit, didn’t he?

_But I never wanted him dead_

That was also true.

_Just gone_

He finally was.

_Then why am I not happy?_

Lance should be fine alone, as always. He would soon forget about him, about the man with no arm and his fiancé. Everything would go back to the way it was before.

_Which was what?_

Somehow it was hard to picture it in that moment. He only had the last three months to recall.

_Why?_

It wasn’t as if they had been the best months of his life nor for the young man. They had been like tiptoeing around a mine field. Oh, Lance realized he was a horrible, horrible person. He wondered if anything would had been different if the young man had been honest about the curse from the start, but at the next instant he said that no, that wouldn’t had change anything if maybe just in making it worse.

Anyway he tried to see it he was always going to be the horrible person that killed Keith.

There was a hiccup and only then did Lance noticed he was crying.

His head started to hurt.

He tried to stop the tears but his arms didn’t obey him, didn’t even budge. He felt the coldness in every part of his body but there wasn’t the itching ice yet. That was Ok. He was glad for the numbness.

Sleep started to weight even more and his eyes stopped fighting it.

But.

A loud boom resonated making the ground shake.

His eyes were open at the moment looking off over the trees surrounding the clearing. It had been close. He could see a thick string of smoke to the west and the smell of burnt reached him quickly.

Another explosion and another one and another one and so on, none of them on the same place.

“Shit.”

That wasn’t just one person and for sure wasn’t one that was just lost.

Over the trees, the sky wasn’t blue anymore. Down in the ground the smoke became heavier.

Another explosion.

Whoever it was seemed to be surrounding the clearing.

He had to get out of there, now.

“The worst day to feel like shit.”

He tried to stand up, but just as he thought, he failed and fell down to his butt again. His legs didn’t have so much strength yet.

The explosions had stopped but that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Come on, come on, they are coming.”

His heart was beating fast, yet there wasn’t any sign of the ice.

He tried again, putting his legs under him to impulse himself up but only managed to fall flat on his stomach.

“Dammit!”

His head wasn’t helping at all with the dizziness. Even if it was hard to focus his sight with all the smoke, he still could tell some silhouettes were coming out from between the trees, some steps into the clearing and another one appeared out of nowhere after a flash of light and stopped the other silhouettes from moving forward.

“What the–”

There was a zap sound and a flash between blue and green and there was a gigantic wolf in front of him with its sharp teeth real close to his face. He didn’t even screamed, he was so weak to fight against it, so he just closed his eyes preparing himself for however it was going to feel.

“Kosmo! No, no!”

Lance didn’t react at first to the voice because it sounded distorted but familiar. He had to submerge in his conscience to remember from where he knew it.

“No, Kosmo, sit! Obey, you damn oversized dog!”

Lance opened his eyes. The wolf was looking behind at someone.

“Keith?” was what he tried to say but only a whine left his mouth.

_Is that you?_

A silhouette appeared at the gigantic wolf side, but Lance couldn’t make any traits of him.

“Hey, are you Ok?”

His voice was weird but it was definitely Keith’s.

When he didn’t responded, the silhouette kneel beside him, hands hovering over Lance’s body, never touching. That close up, Lance could see that he was using a mask.

“Hey!”

The silhouette shook him, but Lance still wasn’t answering. The silhouette moved his arm to remove the hoodie off his head and when this went down, the mask disappeared leaving Keith’s face with a worried expression.

“Are you Ok? What happened? Did they get to you?”

“Wha?”

“Can you move?”

His head was so light he didn’t even tried to shake it as an answer.

“Gonna take that as a no.”

Keith then proceed to turn Lance into his back, passed one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulder blades and lifted him with too much easy, Lance noticed. 

"Kosmo, down."

The wolf obeyed. That way Keith didn’t have to rise him any more to put him on the wolf’s back.

“Hold tight,” ordered Keith as he positioned Lance arms around the wolf’s neck “he won’t mind.”

As Keith hands were moving away, Lance managed to grab onto one of them stopping him. 

“You left.”

And his voice was so small, so sad, that Lance hoped for Keith to not have heard him, but the young man in question turned around with his eyes wide open.

Lance waited.

But Keith didn’t say anything.

So he let go of his wrist.

Keith hesitated for a moment but finally said:

“We need to go, now.”

He wanted to ask where to, but he was tired, so tired, he needed to sleep and that moment seemed to be perfect. The wolf turned around but before it started moving, Keith spoke again. 

"Wait, your stuff, what do you need?" 

Lance tried to say the first and only thing that came to his mind, but he only managed the movement of his lips to say bow. Thankfully, Keith was paying attention because he seemed to understand him and ran into the house. A moment later, he came back carrying the weapon, the quiver full of arrows and a small bag of money Lance didn't remember having. 

Far away, voices started shouting.

"Ok, we ready, boy, let's go." 

Keith gave the wolf a pat in the neck for it to go.

There was a zap and the green-blue light again and when Lance looked around, he noticed they weren’t in the clearing anymore. They were to the east almost at the border of the forest.

“Fuck.”

Keith mask was on again.

The wolf growled and his fur, Lance felt, was getting on point.

He hadn’t notice at first but between the trees were people. Because of his dizziness and the smoke, he couldn’t make how many there were and if they were using some kind of armor or distinct clothing. For the way Keith was standing, looking in every way, Lance deduced they were surrounded.

“We don’t have time for this.”

Keith unsheathed his knife, which at the instant grew into a sword.

“Kosmo, at the signal you take him away from here, as far as you can and then you come back for me.”

Lance was about to protest two things: how could Keith think the wolf could get all of that and how dare he say he was going to stay behind. Didn’t get the opportunity because the people around them started to close on them and felt the wolf’s body tense.

Keith took a deep breath. He raised the hand holding the knife and swung it down.

There was a spark, crackling in the air and then angry flames raised making a wall around them.

Lance screamed and made an attempt to get away from them but was stopped by Keith’s voice.

“Now!”

“No, wait–”

A zap and Lance saw blue and green and then only darkness.

The wolf lay down and waited for Lance to dismount. He did, but refused to let go of the wolf’s fur. Slowly, his eyes got used to the darkness and saw that they were on the middle of nowhere, no place he could recognize.

The wolf made a curious sound, as if asking him to let go. Lance didn’t want to but remembered the second part of the instructions Keith had given to the wolf, so he finally did.

“Go” he pleaded.

The wolf sniffed Lance’s cheek, got up and then was gone in a blue-green flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


	6. Chapter 5 - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part maybe unnecessary long but whatever.  
I didn’t notice that in the last chapter Lance called Keith by his name outloud twice… that wasn’t supposed to happen, so let’s pretend it didn’t.  
A little warning: there are a couple lines that I think may be understood as sexual abuse, I assure you it is not, that’s not what happened, there is a reason why that is not tagged in this fic (if it isn’t clear yet what does lines are referring to, don’t worry it is explained in the next chapters)

The first thing his eyes saw once they were open was the darkness. After several blinks, as he tried to get rid of the heaviness, he noticed the silence, but no, he could hear his own breathing, soft, calm.

_I was sleeping_

Because there was no fatigue in his body or in his mind. But weird because there was no tension in his body, nor were his scars itching, nor were the terrors in his mind.

He took a deep breath and something tickled at his nose, something that smelled of grass and lemon, something that covered his face and was also in his hands. Slowly, his mind said it was fur and that he knew who it belonged to.

_A wolf_

He sat up in an instant.

His eyes weren’t accustomed to the darkness yet but he tried to perceive his surroundings: there was definitely a gigantic wolf sleeping next to him, there was no light in the room but for the one below of what he assumed was a door. He groped around and found a blanket at his feet and pillows above where his head had been a few moments ago.

_A bed in an enclosed room_

But he didn't have a bed and his room had a large window that was always open. That room had nothing, only a bed and Keith’s gigantic wolf.

_Keith _

Someone had attacked the forest, set it on fire and Keith was gone but had returned... and had stayed back at the forest. The one that was on fire.

His legs weren’t in sync with his mind when he tried to stand up so he fell on the floor.

The wolf had to have gone back for him, right? And he had to have come back right away. He tried to remember what had happened after the wolf left him in the middle of nowhere, but only found another void. He had been sleeping without dreams, without nightmares, he wasn't alone but he was locked up. There was only one slit of light and his fingers stretched trying to reach for it but it was so far away. He was cold and just wanted some warmth. Where was Keith? What was that place? There were no shackles on his wrists or ankles, that was always a good sign, wasn't it? But he only had to use them when he hadn't been good, obedient ... useful.

_Where am I?_

He didn’t want to be punished.

It always hurt.

_Wasn’t I being good?_

A pair of hands found his cheeks.

And he whimpered.

“Please, I’m trying.” His voice was a mere whisper barely leaving his lips.

Someone was talking and they didn’t sound angry.

Maybe this time wasn’t going to be a punishment, maybe this time he did right.

“I’ll keep being good.” A sob broke his words.

Slowly, his body was lifted from the floor.

Between his tears he saw the door open and the light coming inside the room, swallowing the darkness.

Right in front, across the hall was a huge window and on the other side of the glass a tree rocking its leaves following a wind he could no feel nor hear.

The silence was persisting.

He could only perceive his crying and his uneven breathing… and the arms carrying him.

“Where…” but he stopped because he wasn’t supposed to ask, only to obey.

More talking but he couldn’t make the words, only the rumbling coming from the chest his head was lying on.

Still he nodded.

Compliant.

As he was taught to be.

They went down the hall and they left the window behind, now ther was only a plain white wall. He was already missing the tree. A creak and they were now in a bigger room full of light. He was left in a soft surface (almost the same length of the bed but more narrow, he was laying complete flat without problem but preferred to sit and hug his legs near his chest). The person knelt down beside him and spoke again, but he still couldn’t understand them. He should say so but that would only make things worse. Why do they insist? They had never needed an answer, only for him to do as he was told.

He extended his hands forward, palms down, ready.

Just make him touch whatever needed to be touched and be done with it.

Something wet poked at his hand, gentle, sniffing.

Lowering his eyes, finally focusing, he found the face of a wolf. A gigantic wolf with eager eyes.

Without too much thought, he cupped his hands around its head and the wolf didn’t wait to lean into the touch closing its eyes enjoying the attention.

Lance chuckled.

The next second, the animal was trying to fit its gigantic body around Lance in the coach and after almost pushing him off, the wolf settle down and closed its eyes.

“He likes you.”

The voice startle Lance, reminding him that there was someone else there. Looking sideway, he saw Keith still kneeling beside the coach with relive all over his face.

“What can I say, I’m a delight.” Lance lied.

“Obviously.” Keith smirked amused, but it disappeared the next moment as his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you OK?”

_No_

“Where are we?” He didn’t even bothered with a nod or shake of his head, what he wanted was to avoid it. “This is not the forest and neither your brother’s if I remember right.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed but let it pass.

“At some kind of safe house.” And before Lance could ask about it, he stood up and changed the topic. “Do you want something to eat? Drink?”

His throat felt so dry.

“Drink, please.”

Keith nodded and walked out of the room to where Lance assumed was the kitchen. Just a few seconds and he was back with a steaming cup. After offering it to Lance, which he accepted with a small thank you, Keith sat in another coach across him.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

Lance didn’t blow into the cup before taking a sip. It was an explosion of orange and other flavors he couldn’t pin. But the orange tasted too familiar, almost as a favorite.

“Even if you don’t feel it, doesn’t mean it won’t hurt you, you’re gonna end with burns.”

Lance shrugged and kept taking little sips enjoying the flavors with one hand maneuvering the cup and the other petting the wolf.

Keith rolled his eyes at this. He sighed and went to stand up, but Lance stopped him mid movement:

“Why though?”

“Why what?”

“Why does he likes me so much? We have never met before.”

Keith closed his mouth in a thin line as if he was considering in telling him or not, his cheeks became a little bit red, just a faint blush almost unnoticeable. He sat down again.

"I…” he started moving his hands the same way he would whenever he was cleaning his knife “I may have complained about you to him?"

Lance raised a brow. 

"What? It's not like there was anyone else near willing to talk, also it would have made the letters longer."

Lance ignored the jab at his guts after the "talk" comment and instead minded the last piece of information. 

"Letters?" 

"Yeah, I had been writing to my brother since we left his home, never told you because I thought it would put you more in edge and didn’t know if Kosmo would have freaked you out, you know, because all of your isolation and anonymity thing." 

_That’s fair_

"So the wolf can teleport? Was him your safe way out of the forest?" 

"Yes, because no matter how hard I tried on my own I couldn’t leave. No matter which way I took, I always ended coming back to the clearing… it was actually a bit disturbing." 

There was another question Lance wanted to ask but when he opened his mouth, he didn't find the words. He even felt shameful. 

_He owe you nothing_

Lance clenched his hand around the cup.

"Can we talk about what you said back at the forest?" 

"What did a I say?"

“Ii wasn't my intention to leave–”

The words came back to Lance in a second as embarrassment fill him.

“Obviously we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Well, it obviously bothered you.”

“So? It’s not like you owe me an explanation, you can go and come as you please.”

He decided to put down the cup down on the floor.

"I wanna apologize for leaving, that was not my intention" And Keith's voice sounded so strong, not leaving space for any rebuttals Lance was trying to find. 

_Don't lie_

"Why?”

"What?" 

"Why are you lying?" 

"I'm not-" 

"Do you feel bad for me?" he paused, but decided he didn't want an answer. "I don't need your consideration… whatever you do, you don't have to explain it to–"

"I'm not lying." 

He didn’t shout but raised his voice enough for Lance to hear him over his own words. The wolf lifted his head and stared at his owner for a few seconds before going down again. 

“Still don’t need your explanation.”

“Still want to give you one.” A pause, challenging Lance for a retort and continued when he kept quiet. "I didn't have a say on it, Kosmo appeared with a paper with a 'we need you now' written on it and he just took me away." Lance looked for any hints for lies he knew he didn’t know how to pinpoint. "Tried to come back the faster I could but the matters took more time than needed and I wish they hadn't for I could have warned you sooner." 

"About what?" 

"About the galras." 

The ice surfaced from his heart, filled his chest and went down his arms.

Lance stood up getting away from the wolf since he didn’t want to hurt him by accident.

"Wonderful, of course those were them– Why? They have never– Even the forest was too scary for them–” He stopped mid rambling and looked at Keith, who was still sitting but had his hands in a placating motion. “… and why would you know they were coming?" He heard the ice crackling somewhere in his shoulders or chest, he wasn’t sure.

"Well, we have been dealing with–” Keith started but stopped and stood up too. “Wait, you know about them?”

Lance made a strangled noise.

He doubted anyone could not know who the galras were. When travelling, he had seen them, lurking in the roads or walking as if nothing in the little towns afar from the big cities. What people thought about them, Lance didn’t know, but he knew he didn’t like them.

“Are you telling me you know why they were there?” every word coming out was surrounded with steam. “Did you tell them?”

That’s why he should never trust anyone.

He took a step back away from Keith.

“About me?”

His body crouched and his hands went to his chest, in the middle where he could feel the fast beating of his heart.

"You–” The ice creeped up his throat making it harder to talk and to breath. “You brought them to me."

"What– No, no, that's not what happened."

Keith took a step towards him and he considered running away. 

"No!" 

But he couldn’t made himself to move and Keith was getting closer.

"Let me explain." 

Both of Keith’s hands hovered over his arms and slowly went up to find his hands.

The ice cracked at his cheek.

"No! Stop!"

Until he felt the touch was he able to react but Keith already had a grip on him, not strong but enough to stop him from trying to pull away.

“Stop! I don't want to hurt you!" 

"Then don't do it." He say in a soft murmur, not as an order nor a jape but as a pleading.

And the ice stopped.

It was still on his skin as a weapon, ready to freeze whatever dare come in touch with it, whatever except for Keith. And where his hands touched Lance… it felt warm.

"You’re warm."

"Yes, that's normal for–" 

"No, I mean, why? They– People say my skin is cold, that it hurts to touch it.” 

"I know, Adam had to use gloves when he treated you."

"Why aren't you even bothered by it?"

"I don’t know, my body temperature has always been a little higher… maybe it’s that I’m the Red Paladin and my Lion represents the fire, maybe that’s what protects me” He came closer looking for Lance’s eyes. “Or maybe it’s just you doing it.”

Having him so close, in that moment, made funny things to Lance’s stomach and his eyes were still pretty with that unknown color that it was easy to get lost in them.

“Every time you had been close to deadly hurt me, you had always stopped.”

The ice was retreating slowly… no, it was melting, drop by drop falling into the floor and evaporating.

“And after it you always look so ashamed.”

Because there was a truth to that.

“I don’t want to hurt or kill you.”

“I know.”

“But you shouldn’t rely in that.”

“I–”

Lance yanked his hands and stepped back annoyed.

“Just because my intents may be the best ones, doesn’t mean I will always be true to them… or able to control it.”

“I’m sure you will get there.” He hold Lance’s stare as he said so.

Lance felt like punching something, but settled for clenching his hands in fists.

“Would you like to keep talking about what happened at the forest?”

Whatever thought Lance had about Keith being brave died and only kept the “he is stupid” one. He wanted to say no, but knew he needed to say yes to know that his trust in Keith was not a mistake, even if it had been forced at the beginning, Lance didn’t want to regret it.

“It’s… yeah, let’s finish this.”

“OK, sorry to insist, but, you know about the galras?”

Lance only raised his brows really annoyed.

"What? I had never talked about them, you have never asked and there's no way to know what you know."

_That’s also fair_

"So, may I ask what you know about them?" 

That was definitely a bad idea because the ice would start again and the situation may scale again and it would be a no ending cycle. But he had already said yes and he was tired of the stupid fear, honestly.

"That I have to stay away from them." 

"You think they are dangerous?" 

Lance couldn’t see his own face but was sure his expression made clear the obvious.

"Apart from what happened in the forest."

Lance took a moment to sort his thoughts.

_So, here comes nothing_

He took a deep breath and started:

"Yes, since ever, as far as it goes, I have thought that. Even if my memory fails me and only lends me fragments… I’m pretty sure I scaped from them four years ago, actually, that’s the first memory, if you were to ask me were I think my life started I would say it was in that moment…” he felt like scratching at his back, over the thin and long scars “There was fog or smoke, I'm not sure, and there was a lot of movement, people running and screaming, I was also running, trying to get away from the men in purple and black, the distinct characteristics of the galran soldiers as what I later found out.” He took a deep breath “Maybe that’s not enough but, when I found myself in a somehow unknown world, I had the need to hide and one time I ran into a few galran soldiers, they were quite adamant on catching me, didn't have the time to ask them why. " 

He finished with another deep breath, feeling his arms for the missing ice that was still storming in his chest around his heart.

_In control, keep it under control_

Going by Keith’s face, he probably had questions that both of them knew there wasn’t going to be an answer.

"Well, I’m curious to know what you did for them to still be hunting you, but clearly that’s a dead end, so…"

“So you said you were going to explain why you knew they were going to the forest.”

“Right.” He clapped his hands and sighed, for a long exhale. “I’m so bad at this– OK, listen… it's in some way my fault but I swear it wasn't on purpose. I don't know if you are aware of this, but for the last two years the kingdoms of Altea and Daibazaal have been under a so called Peace Treaty… wait, do you even know about the ten year war between those countries?” Lance shook his head. “OK, that was a thing, the Emperor of the galra thought he should conquer every territory he could, the King of Altea said no, so they went to war, a really nasty one, four years ago the emperor was killed but the royal witch decided she could take the power and two years later she was defeated. Now, Allu– No, the person with _the name,_ is the princess of Altea by the way, formed the Peace Treaty with the Prince of Daibazal. But the galras are divided, there are the ones who believe in the treaty and those who doesn't and we think, that the last ones have compromised the princess. Still don't have solid proves but it’s highly possible.”

“That still doesn't explain why they attacked the forest.”

“I’m getting to it, as I already told you I had been writing to my brother…” He made a short pause. “And also to the other paladins, the whole time I have been in the forest, with Kosmo as the medium.” He pointed at the wolf “We all share the thought that you may be the last paladin and… well, curiously, the moment we tell the princess we may have found them and _where_, the bad galras started to move towards the forest.” 

Lance felt like screaming, just a bit, but stopped himself from doing it. Still, Keith seemed to notice it.

“Maybe it has to do only with the paladin thing and not with whatever reason they had four years ago… maybe they don't even know you are the same person.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you put them on my tail.”

“Yes, I know and we are sorry.”

“Why would they even want to catch the last paladin? For how you said it, it looks like the bad galras have it for the loss.” 

“The princess said that with the five paladins, together, an even stronger force will awake, the old books called it Voltron, or something like that, but the deal is that it’s supposed to be undefeatable.” 

“So the bad galras believe that if they deprive Altea of this, oh, marvelous power, they would have a chance to win?”

“It's what we think, yes.”

“Well, I, for sure, am not the paladin you are missing…” 

“We still don't know that.”

“… so you better put that on a letter to your princess.”

“Either way, they know we had a reason to believe you may be the paladin, I don’t think they’ll just let it go.”

Lance really, really wanted to punch something.

“Great, now the forest won't be safe, ever, thank very much.” He grabbed at his hair and pulled a little hard on it. “I guess I'm going back to desert unless you have told them that too, but I’m pretty sure you haven't since I never told you that or the other two men.” The force in his grip increased, still he wasn’t able to feel it.

He didn’t hate the desert but didn’t love it either but…

“I would rather you not.”

“And I would listen to you because?”

_Wait_

“Is that the reason we are at a safe house?” He let go of his hair. “Because you feel responsible for my safety?”

“Yes… I was the one putting you in danger, I want to make sure you are out of it.”

“Then don't say anything about the desert and I can go there without a problem.”

“I think it would be safer if you stayed here.”

“What! No!”

“Only four persons, I included, know about it.”

“And you trust the other three?” 

“With my life.” 

“You know, you may think you sound so hardcore but for the way you said it, I can’t take you seriously.”

Keith had the decency to look offended.

“Look, I still think you are wrong but I'm gonna give you the right of doubt and assume that you _may_ not be the paladin, still, I'm responsible of your safety…”

“No, you are not.”

“And there's also the debt.”

_Shit_

“So I was thinking, helping you to figure out the ice may make the deal and we could also get to know for sure about the paladin part.”

“Won't you be busy with all the bad galras thing going on?”

“I have a free pass thanks to my curse, also, I did say that the paladins are like the protectors of the world and so on, but, nowadays we have a lot of help, so they can manage pretty well without me. Also, Kosmo is a big help in serious emergencies.”

Both of them looked at the coach where the aforementioned was staring at them form over the back of the coach, unblinking.

There wasn’t any real problem or reason that stopped him from going to the desert. If Keith was really worried about the curse he would be obligated to follow Lance wherever he decided to go, besides, he just said the wolf would be the solution to communication and transportation as it has been all this time.

Lance crossed his arms over his chest without looking at Keith.

He could just go. At night after making sure Keith would be sleeping or unable to follow him. He would have to figure out where he was but didn’t think it would be hard… the only problem would be the wolf (as Lance guessed he was the reason Keith had never lost him before or at least, able to find him so quickly). No, there was another problem: if Keith tried to force Lance to stay or to come back, now that he was unnerved by the galras coming so close to him, things could get ugly. There was a truth, but there was also the survival instinct that would rile him up even more… either way, the fault was going to be his and so far he was fine with the little guilt he was already carrying.

“Fine, I'm staying, but only for the stupid debt.” 

“And that's enough.”

They stood there, motionless, waiting for the other to make the first move or something. Lance still refused to look at Keith.

“Where exactly is the safe house located?” 

It took a moment for Keith to answer:

“I need the approval of the other three to be able to disclosure that information.”

A beat of silence and then Lance was throwing his hands in the air while cursing. He decided he had had enough of Keith for the day so he went back to the coach and lied down, part over the soft surface and part over the gigantic wolf, and buried his face in the fur.

Keith said something about making more food and went away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


	7. Chapter 5 - Part II

As it turned out, Lance wasn't done with Keith for the day, but only because some hours later he got hungry and Keith had the food in his power (he was kind to provide without Lance asking for it). But they ate in silence though. Once they were done, Keith told Lance he could pick any room he preferred for himself, maybe guessing he would rather not go back to the window-less room he had woken up in, and that whenever he felt he was in the mood they should talk about other matters concerning their stay for the time being. Lance nodded and left the dining room swearing in his mind that this time he was really done with him for the day.

Kosmo was where he had left him when he got up in his searching for food. He considered for a second to just go back to the coach and hug that pile of fur, but decided against the idea the next second.

He walked pass the coach. At the corner opposite from where he had come from the kitchen, where two doors (and ignored the biggest one in front the coach that seemed like the main door to the house, for the time being). He went through the one that was open, as he believed it to be the one from where they came before. It leaded to a hall that turned right. The wall was bare at first but at the far back, there was the huge window. To his left were more doors, down the hall he counted four. Checking one by one, he found a bed and two pieces of furniture in three of it. The last one was the window-less ono. As he opened the door and noticed that, he closed it right away as a shiver ran down his spine.

“Nope, definitely not that one.”

He went back to fully check the others. All of them looked the same, with the same furniture, the same window that didn’t changed in size or its view. He didn’t like none of them.

He returned to the room with the coach and after thinking on asking Keith which room was his, he just opted to sit next to the gigantic wolf to pet him.

It was at nightfall when Keith had to wake him off as he had dozed off by moments. His hand was still over Kosmo’s head.

“If you’re gonna sleep here at least lie down or you are gonna fuck up your neck and back.”

Keith was breathing harshly, didn’t look frantic or worried, so Lance assumed they weren’t in danger. He was also wet. Just a little. Drops falling from his hair, some to the floor, others tracing his face down until his chin. His clothes were not the same as in the morning and he smelled sweet as a flower would.

“Did you take a bath?” He slurred without thinking.

Keith blinked a few times not expecting that answer.

“Yeah… I spent some time at the training deck so I stank.”

“Training deck?”

Keith nodded as he pointed at the other door in the corner that didn’t lead to the bedrooms. “There is one, also the bathroom is over there and some studios.”

“How big is this house?”

“Big enough.”

“Why though.”

“Pidge wanted space, they got it.” Answered Keith with a shrug.

“Pidge? 

“Another paladin and a good friend.”

They fell into silence.

Lance considered asking about this “Pidge” person (whose name sounded invented but who was him to judge, really), who were they? Which element guarded them? How did they had the means to such a place? Who were the other two people that knew about the house? (And hoping it was Keith’s brother and not the princess who knew). But he bit his tongue back.

“If you want, you can take a bath too.”

Keith’s voice brought Lance back to the moment.

“I only cleaned you were I treated some injuries, mostly your arms and your torso. Maybe you would prefer a complete _cleaning_?”

Lance should thank Keith since he was helping his body to heal properly, but it was still uncomfortable to think of Keith touching him. It wasn’t a big deal it was just Keith being a worrisome over his body’s lack of preservation. It didn’t even give him the sensation of intrusion… it was just weird.

Lance narrowed his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your permission, for the second time, but you weren’t waking up. You slept for more than two days…”

For Lance it felt like it had been only yesterday.

“You actually scared me, you looked like dead and was about to bring Adam to check you, but you woke up before I did anything.”

“Oh, honestly, the most I recall is your wolf going back for you.”

“Figures, you were barely conscious when we arrived…” He suddenly looked away apologetic. “Didn’t realize you would end up freaking out so I’m sorry, it’s just that I thought the absent of sun would help you rest.”

Not that he would had been able to notice it apparently, but Lance decided to thank him for the thought either way, just not aloud.

“Well, it’s not like we have a guide for what kind of reaction I’m going to have to anything.”

Keith huffed at that with a tiny, tiny, smile. And Lance immediate thought was that he shouldn’t drag himself for Lance’s problems, he had his own (which was bigger and more important).

Lance took a deep breath and proceeded to stand up.

“If the offer for a bath is still up for taken, I think I would like that” he started as he clapped his hands together. “Especially if you still have some of the smelly thing you stink of now.”

Keith was taken back for the sudden change of topic and as the petition registered, for some reason he turned red in the face.

“That’s the only kind of soap there was!” he sounded really scandalized and Lance found it funny.

“Well, I like it, so I want some.”

Keith flushed even more. Lance tilted his head a bit confused. He had seen Keith have this reaction before but for the first time, he realized he kind of enjoyed it, didn’t understand why though.

“Then, please, show me the way to the _bathroom._”

He was actually curious. He had never seen or remember what people called a bathroom before, knew they existed sure, but for him, a river or a lake was enough to wash his body if he ever found himself in need for it. If he parted from that idea, Lance imagined it should contain some kind of tank big enough for a big amount of water for people to wash themselves without a problem.

Keith sighed and it seemed like he was trying to calm himself down. He then turned around without saying anything and walked toward the other door. Lance followed him after he disappeared through it. It lead to another hall with other four doors but in this part, the rooms seemed bigger. One bigger than the other three and two bigger than the last one. Keith was standing in front of this one. When Lance caught up to him, he opened the door.

And it was not what he expected.

There wasn’t any kind of tank, there were like tiny rooms with enough space for a single person on his feet. There were three of them.

Lance looked back at Keith, but he didn’t notice his confusion and went in.

“You can use whichever you want, I know it’s weird we have three showers, but Matt said it would be a waste of time if you had five people waiting for a bath.” He said as he grabbed a cloth from a closet. “The one at the middle has the soap, the _one_ you want _so much_.” He didn’t even looked Lance in the eye went he turned and shoved the cloth into his hands. “Are you gonna keep using those clothes or would you like something else? I think there are some spares in one of the rooms.”

Lance felt the cloth around as he extended it. It was long enough to put it around himself but not wide enough to cover him from head to toe. It was also soft.

“Mines are fine.”

He finally looked at Lance’s eyes, but then he glanced down to his clothes, judging them.

“No.” he said and didn’t let Lance talk as he continued over his protest. “At least not right now, they are dirty. You wash them and you can use them again.”

Lance still wanted to argue but Keith just turned around and started explaining how the shower worked. So he shut up and listened.

Once he was done, Keith asked if he would like something for dinner.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

Keith nodded and turned around saying he was going to left him alone, but as he reached the door he stopped and turned again.

“Oh, right, I couldn’t tell, did you already pick a room?”

“No.”

Keith bit his lower lip, thinking.

“What about you?”

Keith shook his head and Lance frowned. They had been in the house for almost three days, it was absurd that Keith hadn’t used any of the rooms.

_But all the rooms looked the same, as if no-one had used them before_

He opened his mouth to ask about it but Keith beat him to it.

"Since you are too privy with your space I thought to let you all the rooms for you and I could stay in the common room.”

"Can you take a bed out there?" 

"No, but as you can agree, the coach is very cozy." 

Something inside Lance's head told him to say that he wouldn't mind having Keith near in the same area, but he ignored it and agreed with him instead. 

Keith nodded again and finally left Lance with a tiny bit of guilty in his chest.

Why not let Keith use the bedrooms? Just because he had been able to sleep without dreaming in the las three days didn’t mean he would be able to do it again. That was going to be a waste of space. Maybe it would be better if he was the one to sleep on the coach if he ever manage to do it.

Maybe if he had the courage to tell Keith so, but there was something telling him not to. It would be to retract what he had said and somehow that bothered Lance. So he wasn’t going to do it.

That also bothered him.

Lance groaned as he grabbed his head at the temple and pressed a bit.

Dealing with Keith was getting too frustrating and he hated it.

First, Lance wanted him gone, then he was gone and so Lance happen to change his mind and wanted him back? Ridiculous.

His presence was no longer a hindrance or annoying, now it was…

_Calming_

“No.”

He pulled his hands down his face, his nails leaving red tracks down his cheeks.

“No.”

And he was going to repeat it as many times as he needed to believe it.

He took off his clothes and let them, with the cloth Keith previously gave him, in a pile near the door and walked towards the “shower”. As he passed the sink, his eyes caught a glimpse of something or more precisely, of someone. He stopped and looked to his left. There was a mirror. He had seen one before. One on the few times he had bought clothes, a young woman had tried to sell him one. That one had been smaller by much, just the right side for him to hold it in his hand, this one was huge.

Lance stared.

It was almost as looking at the surface of a body of water, but clearer, steadier. There were not movements produced by animals or the wind.

So he stared.

He had never noticed his eyes were different. His right hand went to the brown one while the left one to the blue one. He traced his nose, brows and lips. Under his eyes were a lot of little dots a bit darker than the rest of his skin, there were also in his forehead and going down from his cheeks to his neck; he knew he had a few on his arms but never considered to have them on his face.

He felt disgusted with all the cuts and cracks he found. There were so many, not only in his face but also in his neck and torso and arms. Some were treated and soon enough they will disappear, but the cracks… they were horrible.

_Had Keith been looking at this?_

There was a sudden lump at his throat and for some reason his eyes stinged.

_Why would I care? I had been like this since ever_

That didn’t make him feel better if only distraught him even more.

He raised a fist and pulled it back. One beat. Two beats. Three beats. And he let it fall to his chest and squeeze the skin there, hard. It didn’t hurt. Still, he stopped before he could draw blood.

_Breaking the mirror won’t stop me from being disgusting_

He sighed and hurried himself to take his bath.

He opened the shower following Keith’s instructions as how to make it hot. He knew he could even mediated it to be nor cold nor hot, but in-between those. He opened it full into the hot option. The room was covered in steam real fast. Slowly, he stepped inside.

It was just water.

He didn’t feel it hot nor cold.

Only felt the water hitting his skin and even if this one was getting redder and redder with each passing second, it didn’t hurt.

Lance didn’t notice when Keith had come in to take his dirty clothes and let new, but as he stepped out of the shower they were there. He got rid of the wetness the best he could and tried on the new clothes (always avoiding looking at the mirror).

They were big for him.

The pants fell of his waist and he could swim inside the shirt. He tried to accommodate the hole for the head in the middle so it wouldn’t fall from over one of his shoulders but gave up at the end.

At least he now smelled like flowers too.

With one hand keeping the pants of falling off, he went out to look for Keith to question his sense of fashion.

As he opened the door to the common room, Kosmo was on him tail wagging like crazy. He barely managed to keep the wolf from standing on his back paws and his pants in place. Keith was sitting in the coach writing something in a piece of paper.

“So you are going to keep writing the letters?”

“Kosmo knows not to bring them to the princess.” Answered Keith without raising his eyes from the paper.

Lance walked toward him with Kosmo at his side, tail still wagging. He stopped right in front of Keith and put both his hands on his hips.

“Where did you put my clothes? I hope you’re not expecting me to wear this for long.”

“I put them on the washing machine.”

Lance frowned.

“The what?”

Keith sighed and finally looked up and stared at Lance for a couple seconds, eyes going wide. Then he coughed and quickly went back to his letter.

“It’s a machine that helps you do the laundry easier and quicker, if you want, tomorrow I can show you how it works.”

Lance could see his ears were going red.

“Sure, sounds like fun, I guess.”

Keith grunted and kept writing if with a little too much force.

“Well… goodnight or whatever.”

“Night.” Keith nodded.

Lance stayed put for a moment just to see if Keith would look at him again, when it was clear he wasn’t going to or say anything more he started to walk away.

Kosmo followed him.

“Woah, Kosmo, aren’t you going to grace your owner with some company, not like I don’t like having you with me but he may feel a little lonely.”

The wolf tilted his head and kept wagging his tail, he didn’t even glanced back at said owner.

Keith snorted.

“It’s Ok, as I already told you, he likes you.”

“But–”

“And I think he is just happy that he can finally hang with you.”

He looked down at the wolf. He almost looked like he was smiling.

“Still don’t understand why you like me so much.” He started petting him. “But I really appreciate it.” He whispered so Keith couldn’t heard him.

They went to the rooms.

When Lance got into the hall he noticed the second room’s door was the only one open. Curious, he peeked in and found the bed had been pulled toward the biggest furniture so to free more space near the window, also the sheets and the pillows were gone. He went to the other two bedrooms and found both beds devoid of their cloths, he guessed the bed in the window-less room might have suffered the same treatment. He went to the first room because it was the only where the bed was moved. As he went around it he found all the sheets and pillows accommodated under the window. Just the same way his nest had been back at the forest.

For the first time in almost five years, what Lance felt inside his chest wasn’t ice but warmth.

He smiled.

That first night at the safe house, that he was conscious about, was easy with Kosmo at his side. And at first, he didn’t gave it too much thought. Even if he had spent two days sleeping, he was still tired so it didn’t take him long to fall asleep. He lied down, closed his eyes and just like that, he was gone. He didn’t even notice where Kosmo lied but at least was there when he woke up.

At breakfast, Keith said he had to send the wolf with the letter he had written the night before and that he may have to stay away for a few days. And for whatever reason, Lance felt something heavy fall in his stomach. Why would he mind? It wasn’t like the company did anything about his dreams. So, why worry?

When they finished eating, Lance said his goodbyes with a lot of petting which lead to the wolf not wanting to leave, at what Keith half chuckled, half groaned as he promised they would totally see each other again.

“This is getting ridiculous.” Keith sighed when Kosmo finally departed.

They started the day with Keith showing Lance the so called washing machine, which worked with the help of some stones from Balmera and Altean magic (Keith spared him the details and the explanation) and Lance admitted it could came in handy if you had too much laundry. Then Keith explained to Lance what was a towel and for what he was supposed to use it, Lance thought that it was pretty unnecessary because the water would eventually dry on its own without any help, still Keith made him promise to use it. Then they almost got into a fight because lance wanted to go outside and see the surroundings and maybe hunt something since he was craving some meat.

“Sorry, but it’s best that you stay inside.”

“If this is about safeness– You can’t imprison me.”

“You are not a prisoner.”

“Even if it’s a house, it can feel like a cage.”

“It’s just a precaution, you could get lost because the stupid house is protected with a enchantment.”

“Why.”

“Pidge it’s a bit paranoid about their work.” 

He had already agreed to stay, he couldn’t back up… well, he totally could but didn’t feel right to do so.

“I know you may feel restless, but if you want to hunt or just vent your unchecked anger, use the training deck, if it can handle Hunk hits, it can handle your shots.”

And he showed Lance that even if the training deck wasn’t perfect for archery it could totally handle it.

Lance spent most of the day there until he broke almost half of his arrows.

Keith offered to get new ones or the materials for him to make them, but it would have to wait until Kosmo were to come back which was still unknown.

Lance passed the rest of the day going from one corner of the house to the other (except for the studios that were locked) and Keith always kept himself out of his way. That’s how he was able to notice it. He was surprised he hadn’t been able to before. So far the only rooms with open windows where the bathroom and the kitchen, all the others lacked the mechanism to even open them. So the difference around the house was the noise: if he was in any of those two rooms he could hear the wind and the chirping of some birds and the rustling of passing creatures; if he was in any of the other rooms there was nothing to hear but himself and the usual sound Keith make if he was near.

He had tried to force open the window in the room he was using to no avail. The frame mark of it was metal, not wood. He refrained from punching the crystals.

AS he was glaring at the window, Keith knocked slightly at the door startling him.

“Sorry, just wondering, you haven’t eat anything since the morning, would you like dinner?”

And Lance hated the notion of being treated as if he didn’t know how to take care of himself (he may be bad at it, but that didn’t make him useless or didn’t give Keith a reason to do it instead). He was fine.

“No.”

Keith hovered where he was standing, his hand playing with the door knob.

“You sure?”

Lance groaned. “Yes I’m fucking sure.”

“Alright.” He whispered as he turned to leave.

“Wait.” Lance called at him standing abruptly from the nest.

Keith raised his brows at him.

“Why is it so quiet?”

Keith looked at both his sides. “What do you mean?”

“Even if the windows are closed there is no reason for the house being totally isolated.” He pointed at the window. “I can’t hear anything on the other side, not even the ‘tuck’ a bug surely made when it hit the crystal.”

“Oh, that, Pidge said that since they use this house solely as work place, they made it sound proof so nothing bothered them while they were working. Actually, the only two windows we can open are thanks to Hunk.”

“Your friends are so weird.”

For a moment Lance thought Keith wasn’t going to answer.

“Yeah, but we make it work.” His face was serous but something in his tone told Lance that there was something hidden in those words. “If you want, there is enough food for you too.”

And then he left.

Lance stayed in the room, doing nothing but stare at the sky on the other side of the window, watching the hours pass in its colors and from time to time, birds crossing it. Soon, the stars started twinkling in the dark blue. At least there were as much as there where in the forest, there were even the same ones he played to name. But somehow felt even further away with that damned crystal in the way.

Keith didn’t come again and Lance didn’t know how to feel about it.

The hours kept going.

And Lance couldn’t even bring himself to try and sleep.

He knew it wouldn’t work, that the moment he closed his eyes the nightmares were going to come flooding back. He wasn’t feeling lonely, it had never been an issue before, but…

He didn’t like the silence. He despised it. It made his skin crawl.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up and went out of the room. His feet made no noise as he went down the short distance towards the door leading to the common room. At his back, he felt the silence and the darkness grow even if at the other end of the hall the moon light was leaking through the huge window. The door was closed, maybe Keith did it as he left Lance alone. Slowly, he grabbed the knob, turned it and pushed it open. Only for a crack and the noise of movement flowed the hall, a small and tenuous noise but it was enough to calm Lance’s nerves down. He tried to discern what it was as he leaned his head in the wall and closed his eyes. It sounded like clacking. Maybe metal against metal. He considered to spy and see where Keith was, if he was the one doing the noise, but his eyelids were suddenly way too heavy to open the again.

_What is Keith doing at this time of the night? Can’t he sleep too?_

The clacking was lulling him to sleep. His body lean fully on the wall as it left itself fall till it was sitting in the floor.

_No… the faces..._

Consciousness finally left him.

There weren’t any faces, but there was the sound of water hitting against land.

And when he woke up next morning, he was still sitting in the hall but there was a jacket, that he totally knew who it belonged to, over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
